The Philip Elwood Chronicles
by Werecat Boy
Summary: The life and stories of Gracey Manor's liveryman Philip Elwood and friends.


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Finally after a long, long while I managed to complete my first chapter of my Philip Elwood Chronicles story ideas. This hopefully will be the start of a series chronicling the life and times of my Haunted Mansion character, the liveryman Philip Elwood.

The first chapter centers around the very first meeting and encounter Philip had with his love and future mansion maid Merridie, and reveals the past of their characters.

I also want to give a huge thanks to Aquarian Wolffor some of her input on her characters and some help with dialogue for them. Characters of Dustin, Asher, and Bea belong to her.

Enjoy!

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**WHEN PHILLY MET MERRI**

_Good evening, dear mortals. I'm so glad to see that you've decided to linger amongst our musty halls and settle in for a while. Whilst on your tour, perhaps you've had the chance to page through our musty tome that we entitle the Ghostly Gallery. It certainly is an impressive collection, but a few misconceptions abound. After all, what but can you expect from mortal biographers? Some of our most illustrious residents have been unfortunately left out of view, but only for their devotion to perfoming their duties away from most of the visitors and preferring their privacy. One of our more charming residents is that of teenaged Master Philip Elwood, our liveryman and stable boy. Many who come across this lad will vouch that he is one of the more friendlier of our happy haunts. And as most any one knows, he's hardly ever seen without his darling love, our maid Merridie Hamilton, by his side. However, other than his closest friends within the mansion, much of his story has never been shared to the mortals who pay visit to our dreary abode. I think it is most certainly one that begs telling of the heritage and life of this particular boy and his darling sweetheart. Come, let us venture into the mouldering sanctum of the past and to when they first came together..._

***

June 03, 1907

"Philip, dear! It's time to get up!"

Philip's mother's high-pitched voice pierced the room, as it shattered the boy's blissful dream world he had been slumbering in. Rolling over in bed, the pudgy teenager blinked dazedly up into the face of his mother, and threw the covers over his face with a groan.

"It's too early!" the young master whined.

"Too early?!" Rowena cried in surprise. "Nonsense! It's almost eleven o'clock! I've let you sleep the day away long enough!" With a sharp tug at the rope, the drapes flew open in a fury, filtering the bright sunlight into the previously pitch black room. "Besides, we're expecting special guests today and we can't have you dwaddling! They'll be here any moment."

Rowena stared at the bed as no reply came from under the covers. Grabbing her son by his rotund sides, she shook him vigorously. "Wake up! I won't have you wasting the entire day and embarrass me in front of the others! Now get dressed and meet us downstairs! I laid out the suit I want you to wear in the dressing room. We'll be expecting you in an hour."

Rowena glided out of the room in a frenzy, while she muttered to herself all the plans that needed to be prepared for these "special guests." Even as she continued down the hall, Philip could still hear twittering like a hyperactive bird.

Throwing the covers off of him, the young Master heaved himself up and stared about the room in a drowsy daze. He couldn't but wonder just who exactly these special guests were that his mother seemed to be in a tizzy over. Never could he ever recall her inviting any body over that she wanted him to meet; especially one that warranted disturbing his sleep. Typically it was always his mother reprimanding everyone else to "be quiet! Little Phillip needs his rest." Even if it did mean him sleeping until noon.

Growing up in upper class society and being pampered on every whim, Philip had grown up to be rather spoiled. Being his mother and father's only child, they enjoyed doting on their son every chance they could, providing him with everything he could ever want. It wasn't to say that the young Master Elwood was a completely terrible teenager by any means, as he often had a kind and gentle nature most of the time. Although he often wasn't exactly angelic either. He was prone to occasional tantrums and whining, and acted quite the spoiled brat at times. Much of this behavior however had been caused by the teasings from other children of his age - crowing about themselves being superior compared to him and his family. Still, his parents had made every effort they could to try and fit him into high society. They had always been conscious that he grew up on everything highly cultural they could possibly provide - reading fine literature, studying history and mythology, training in music and operatic singing (much to the instructor's dismay). He mostly adored his studies in literature and history, as he soaked in the great words of past authors and scholars into his mind. The ancient stories of past civilizations were particularly intriguing to him, as he held a high importance on artistic ideas himself.

Philip's main enjoyment though was always his culinary tastes of fine foods and sweets. Since his childhood, his parents fed him numerous times a day with only the finest and richest dishes, as the young lad happily gobbled them down in a terrible gluttonous manner which continued to this day. Despite a few snobbish comments about it from other upper class society figureheads, Rowena simply replied "Oh, he's just a growing boy!" Over time he did indeed grow - growing out more than anything else. Now at the age of fifteen, Philip was more than typically pudgy. His face had become rather moon shaped, matching his round midsection and prominent fat pot belly. His weighty appearance however didn't bother the young master, as he always seemed to be perfectly happy with himself. And as long as their precious son was happy, so too were his parents.

Trying to adjust his eyes to the bright sunlight, Philip staggered forward into the dressing room, stumbling across different pieces of furniture along his way. Grumbling and mumbling to himself, he finally located the door to the closet by smacking himself directly into it.

"Owww..." the plump boy groaned softly, still half asleep in his quasi daze. "Stupid place to put a door..." Fumbling for the handle, he opened it and proceeded to prepare himself for the day.

***

Philip marched himself down the manor's grand staircase, making loud thumping noises as he jumped on each step. In a sprawling opulent house of this size, one could easily have gotten lost on a simple trip to the bathroom. Even the Master himself wasn't quite sure of the place after having resided in it for fifteen years.

Proceeding down the hallway, Philip continually fumbled with his suit while trying to locate his way to the parlor. Despite having grown up in the upper class, the lad was still unaccumstomed to wearing these tight formal clothes, and preferred his more looser riding style outfits each day. The new suit coat that the tailor had sewed for him seemed exceedingly short and tight for his beefy frame, despite it being fully opened. He simply just hung his arms outward to his sides, fearing any sudden movement might tear the arm. He likewise was cautious of exhaling too suddenly in possibly causing the front buttons of his starched shirt to pop right off. His tie seemed to almost strangle his neck as well, with the sharp collars poking into the underside of his cheeks at every turn of his head. The tight pinching shoes upon his toes also had made his walking incredibly uncomfortable, as his mother remained constantly clueless of what size he wore.

Philip just continued to grumble to himself as he trudged on. "I had better be meeting royalty for all this trouble..."

Rounding the corner into the parlor, Master Elwood happened upon his parents sitting and chatting with an older couple that he had never seen before. Of course, expecting such distinguished guests, Philip noticed that his parents were outfitted in their most refined and elegant clothing to display their wealth. His father was completely dressed to the hilt with a suit coat, vest, and gold pocket watch sticking out prominently, with his mother decked out in a flowing white gown. She accentuated the outfit with an enormous flowered hat that covered her red hair, appearing as if an entire windowbox was ridiculously situated atop of it.

As the ever non-stifling hostess, Rowena lead the discussion with her lips flapping away to the new couple about the races they had recently seen at Ascot. Philip's father Harland, remained quiet as usual, preferring to let his wife take hold of the conversation. Unlike his short and fat son, Harland was oppositely quite tall and cadaverous looking, with an exceedingly thin frame. However, the Master had inerited some traits from his father as well. Most notably his tanned complexion, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair.

Momentarily silencing her birdlike patter, Rowena took notice of Philip standing uncomfortably in the curtained archway. "Philip, dear, don't just stand there! Come over and greet our special guests!" her voice chirped upwards in excitement.

The boy uneasily trodded into the room, still remaining cautious of his ill-fitting suit as he attempted to walk. He rolled his eyes heavenward at his mother's instructions, knowing that it had been his cue for whenever new company had arrived. Turning to the couple, Philip nodded politely in the way he had been trained by his parents. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he intoned with a rehearsed bored sigh and a forced grin.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, young man," the woman chipperly replied. She stared back at Philip with a bright smile and appeared to focus on him with her shining grey eyes. "Your mother and father have told us so much about you since we've arrived. They think so highly of you."

Philip's chubby face broke out into an embarrassed smile, his cheeks flushing with red. "Why, thank you."

However, the Master's attention was momentarily diverted to the large burly man sitting next to the older woman. He stared at Philip with a piercing gaze, glancing the young lad up and down, as if he was sizing him up for something. A disapproving scowl was carved into his bearded face, apparently unimpressed by his general appearance. Philip began to grow steadily uncomfortable as the gentleman continued his grim glowering. He silently wondered if maybe he had committed some faux pas in his presentation and offended him.

"Philip, I'd like you to meet former American Colonel Algernon Hamilton, and his wife Wendeline," Rowena proclaimed. "Mr. Hamilton owns an orange plantation in Florida, and your father believes it may soon become one of the most profitable shipping and farming companies of this season. And Mr. Hamilton has even allowed us to become one of the main stockholders in his company. With any luck our investment could perhaps even triple! Isn't that true, Mr. Hamilton?"

"Yes, there's always the chance," the Colonel flatly replied. His gaze still never left the young Master, causing Philip now to become quite agitated and shift nervously. Just why exactly was he staring at him in this way? Did he commit some terrible crime against his oranges in some way?

An awkward silence stunned the parlor as Philip continued to shift uneasily and attempt to divert his attention from Algernon's stare. But the elder man continued to study him as if he was a statue in the museum of art. It was now almost to a breaking point where he just wanted to shout out "WHY THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME?!"

Eventually Rowena broke the ice, clearing her throat loudly. "Wendeline, I do believe you have a charming daughter that you told me about. Perhaps she would like to join us?"

Wendeline smiled, causing the lines around her mouth to wrinkle slightly. "Oh, I'm sure she'd love..."

"MERRIDIE!" Algernon barked loudly as he startled every one in the room. Philip attempted to stagger back in fear at the man's bark, while Rowena's grasp of her saucer and tea cup had almost slipped completely. "COME IN HERE, GIRL! WE'RE EXPECTING YOU!"

Everyone stared back at the Colonel in shock, including Wendeline who glared with an indifferent look on her face. "She's a lovely girl, but the poor thing's flighty," Algernon informed the others. "Always spending time with her head in the books. She needs to pull it out of them once in a while and learn to take discipline like a real lady."

"Meaning breaking her spirit..." Wendeline muttered under her breath sarcastically.

"What was that?" the Colonel icily bit back.

His wife just turned her head and gave a mocking grin. "Just agreeing with you, darling."

A wisp-like figure suddenly emerged from the curtained doorway leading from the library. A very slender girl stood before them as she surveyed the room and clutched a pair of books in her hands. She appeared as if she was some young Southern Belle, dressed in a hoopskirt ball gown with large puffy sleeves on her shoulders. Her long blonde hair was free flowing, as it cascaded down around her shoulders and masked her face. She forced herself to give a timid smile, making her high cheekbones rise even more, while staring at the group with her limpid green eyes.

"Philip, darling, this is Merridie Hamilton," Rowena gushed. "Miss Hamilton, I'd like you to meet my son, Philip Elwood."

Philip just stared back at her, mentally groaning "Nooo!" in his mind. How could his mother do this to him again? It was now obvious to him now the whole point of this "special meeting" had just been an attempt at another one of her matchmaking plans. Her last three attempts had all ended with disastrous results: Millicent replied "You're much too fat! I need a strong man to whisk me away!"; Anastasia saw nothing beyond her own reflection in the mirror; and Lydia hated cats - while Philip had always adored the feline creatures. He had hoped his mother had learned from these last failed attempts, and his own protests with not wanting to be forced into any nuptial arrangements. However it always laid upon deaf ears, as his mother just giggled "Oh, Philip, don't be so discouraged! I'm sure there's a woman out there for your...unique type."

The young Master stared back at Miss Hamilton with a curious dumbfounded look upon his face. The first thought that immediately came to mind was her wispy figure. "She'd blow over in the wind!" Philip commented mentally. "And she's awfully pale for someone who lives in a place like Florida. I haven't seen a tone like that since our trip to Glasgow! Mother can't be serious about this!"

Philip remained on the spot, just staring back baffled at her, as he felt his mother's eyes glance upon him. She furrowed her brow which gave the usual impatient signal of "Don't just stand there! Present yourself!" Trying to remain polite and courteous, the Master marched foward and bowed slightly in front of Merridie.

"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Hamilton," Philip attempted to act as sincere as he possibly could. His chubby cheeks spread into a wide smile as he glanced back towards Merridie.

The young girl silently replied by taking a quick glance up and down at the young Master, before a small high-pitched squeak emerged from her mouth. She bit her bottom lip in a vain attempt to stifle the giggles she could feel rising from the back of her throat. Philip arched his eyebrow, gazing curiously at the young woman. Just what was this girl finding so hilarious? Looking up and down at himself, he remembered how ridiculous he must have looked in such a tight suit on a pudgy frame like his. He couldn't blame her for giggling then if that was the cause.

Algernon glared at her, growing impatient. "Don't just stand there like a giggling twit, girl! Answer yourself!"

Merridie stifled her laughter immediately and stared down at the floor in disappointment. Philip couldn't help but feel pity as it appeared her father had just squashed all of her spirit and good humor in one fleeting second.

"It's an honor to meet you, Master Elwood," Merridie replied in a somber tone. She bowed into a small graceful curtsy before the Master, her eyes never leaving the floor. Philip couldn't help but wonder if she was upset at this whole situation just as much as he was.

RING! RING! RING!

"Ah, the lunceon bell!" Rowena exclaimed happily and stood up from her seat. "Perhaps you would all like to join us in the dining room? I'm sure cook has prepared something extra special for us today in honor of your visit."

"We'd be delighted to!" Wendeline chirped excitedly. She turned to her husband seated beside her, as he just remained silent and stared forward with a glower. Judging by the disapproving look on his face, the faster they were out of here, the better. "Isn't that right, dear?" Wendeline hissed at him through gritted teeth, while smacking him on his elbow with the tip of her fan.

"Oh yes, quite, quite delighted," Algernon grumbled in a low tone. The four adults all quickly then rose from their chairs and proceeded into the hall towards the dining room.

Merridie still hung her head low with an embarrassed and sad look upon her face. Philip didn't want to encourage this matchmaking process, but he felt such sympathy for the poor girl he couldn't help but act polite towards her.

"Miss Hamilton," Philip spoke in a quiet tone. He raised his arm upwards in her direction, remembering the formal training by his parents. "Would you mind attending luncheon with me?"

Merridie raised her stare from off the ground and towards the Master. The expression on her face wavered a bit, but she still remained solemn in appearance. "I'd be honored to," she replied in the custom obeying manner, equally instructed by her father.

Slipping her arm around his, the young couple silently walked out of the room together. Suddenly, a small squeaking sound interrupted the dead silence as Philip looked next to him curiously. Merridie's face now had a smile upon it as she attempted to stifle giggles once again in between glances at the Master.

Impatient at not being in on this joke, Philip arched his eyebrow again in curiosity. Just what exactly was she carrying on about now? He had always heard American girls were rather odd, but this now just seemed ridiculous to him.

"Might I inquire to ask just what is so hilarious, Miss Hamilton?" he questioned with a sarcastic tone.

"Oh, nothing, Master Elwood," the young lady replied, as small squeaky giggles intermittently erupted from her lips. "It's just I'm accustomed to seeing men of your age as strong, hardworking, burly Southern gentlemen where I come from. I had no idea they could grow them as big and round as you here across the pond."

Philip glared back at her with his small eyes narrowing and his rounded cheeks rising into a sour expression. She seemed to be turning into another Millicent, and he had enough of her to last him a lifetime. "Oh, ha ha," he retorted sarcastically back at her. "You're no Southern Belle yourself. At least I don't come from a place where brothers marry their sisters."

"Perhaps," Merridie replied with a smarmy smirk. "But tell me, how does it feel to be ruled by a bunch of inbreds than just live next door to some?"

Philip just continued his sour glare, knowing that he had been bested by her. He may have felt pity for the girl before, but now she was just flat-out poking fun of his corpulent appearance and his own country! In his head, Philip simply fumed to himself, "What right does she have to make fun of it?! Why, she's acting like nothing but a pretentious little snot! Just because she has a razor-sharp wit and a mocking sense of humor, she thinks she can get away with anything?!" The last thoughts lingered in Philip's mind, causing his pout to slowly grow into a small smile. "Well, at least she has a sense of humor compared to the other girls."

***

The group of six had situated themselves around the long dining table, with the four adults all talking in a fury amongst each other. Merridie meanwhile just had her eyes completely transfixed on Philip in a mixture of both curiosity and humor. For the special occasion the cook had prepared one of Philip's favorite dishes ever - finger sandwiches. While the others continued to pick apart at them daintily, Philip just gorged on them in his typical ferocious manner. It never failed that whenever there was food around, it would always instantly vanish from the call of his stomach. Hunched over in his chair, the Master greedily began shoving as many sandwiches as possible into his mouth, as Merridie could just stare in amazement with a curl of the lip. She was completely in awe at the disgusting spectacle in how anyone could even eat like that, yet at the same time, couldn't help but giggle humoursly at how ridiculous the sight was.

Likewise taking notice of Philip's gluttonous table manners, Wendeline good naturely commented, "It's nice to see that your son has quite the healthy appetite."

"Oh, yes, my Philip is certainly the growing boy," Rowena gushed in her typical doting fashion. She reached over and grabbed one of Philip's chubby cheeks, pinching it in a loving manner. The Master could feel his face flashing bright red in embarrassment, and managed to wriggle his cheek out of her grasp and proceed with the devouring of his meal.

"It helps him to keep up his strength for his activities," Rowena continued to boast. "His music lessons, art, reading..."

"Reading?" Wendeline's voice piqued in interest. "Why, Merridie loves to read as well! She's a veritable bookworm at times, always having her head in some type of literature. I often say that a well-read girl is a knowledgable girl! I know they're just going to make a handsome couple together..."

With the agility of a lightning flash, Merridie bolted up from her chair with an enraged scowl on her face. Simultaneously, Philip's eyes widened, so shocked and angry that he halted his eating. "Again?!" Merridie's typically timid voice now increased in volume. "Daddy, momma, how could you?! I don't know how many times I must have told you that I'm not ready for marriage yet! And even if I had agreed to the arrangement, there's no way I would marry this disgusting pig!"

Philip likewise pointed an accusing finger at his parents, his round face reddening with anger. "Aha! I knew it! You tried to match me up again! I told you that I still don't..." The pudgy Master paused in midsentence as Merridie's last comments seeped into his slow mind. "Wait a minute! Just who do you think you are to call me a disgusting pig?!"

Pounding his fist on the table, Algernon interrupted as he glared at his daughter. "Merridie! Be quiet!" he barked in a sharp tone that sent an echo through the room.

"NO!" the girl's voice was now at full shouting level. "I will not be quiet! I've been quiet for far too long! You've been trying to silence me all my life and obey your rules! I'm not some little wind-up doll that you can control! I've had it!"

Still fuming from Merridie's remark about him, Philip interjected, "Just who do you think you are, Little Miss Perfect?! If maybe once you actually looked past the end of your nose instead of laughing and looking down on people..."

"I'm not marrying him!" Merridie interrupted loudly.

"That's right, you're not!" Algernon grumbled in response, as he stood up to tower over his daughter. "I thought we were coming here to marry you off to a strong and decisive gentleman. Never in a thousand years would I let a daughter of mine marry such a fat and spineless weakling..."

"Now, see here, Mr. Hamilton!" Harland, finally no longer silent, took his son's defense as he tried to reason with the irate colonel.

Algernon however ignored Harland's stance and continued shouting at his daughter."As soon as we return home, we're marrying you to a real man! No more of these worthless high society boys! You need a real military man, a former general or captain!"

"How could you do this to me?!" Merridie screamed back. She could feel herself on the verge of tears, but bitterly held them back at not wanting to give her father the satisifcation of seeing her cry. "I deserve to be treated like a person, not a piece of property!"

"Does anyone even care to listen to what I want to say?!" Philip attempted to make himself heard as he raised his voice, but it was futile in the father and daughter screaming match.

"Philip, this isn't about you!" Rowena reprimanded, trying to keep him out of this argument as much as possible.

"What do you mean this isn't about me?!" Philip huffed in anger. "Of course it's about me! I'm the one being married off!"

"Philip, please!" Harland snapped back. "We'll talk about this later! Just go to your room!"

"For what?! I didn't do anything!"

In the midst of the argument between the Elwood family, Merridie threw her napkin down on the table and proceeded to storm out of the dining room without looking back.

"I didn't tell you to leave!" Algernon screamed at her as he began to march to the doorway. "Come back here now, girl!"

"Algernon, please!" Wendeline grabbed her husband by the arm and pulled him back. "Just let her go. She needs her time alone right now."

"That girl is getting too rebellious for her own good, Wendeline!" the Colonel blustered into his wife's face. "She's been self-righteous for far too long! She needs to learn rules and discipline and respect the decisions of her elders!"

Growing uneasy, Rowena hoped to save her son from this growing spectacle and talk to the Hamiltons privately. "Philip darling, please go to your room now."

"But mother..." Philip protested with a groan.

"Philip, go to your room now!" Harland bellowed, pointing a bony hand to the curtained alcove.

The young Master squinted his pudgy face into a pout, shoving himself up out of his chair and skulking out the door. As he marched through the hallway towards his room, he glanced around for Merridie, but witnessed no signs of the Southern girl. Philip just scrunched his nose up in a spiteful sneer. _Good. The less that I see of her, the better._ Making careful effort to be as loud as possible, he stomped up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door closed with a deafening pound.

***

Upstairs in his room, all Philip could do was sit at his desk mumbling. The events of lunch still lingered about in his head as he thought of the way his parents had treated him. How they could possibly do this?! No matter how many time he expressed how he felt, it seemed his wishes were always ignored by them with a condescending pat on the head. There was no doubt that he was accustomed to this high lifestyle he had always lived, but many times he felt as if he wanted to run away from it.

The Master's thoughts couldn't help but linger back to Merridie as well. It was an odd sensation that he had never felt before - at the same time he was completely disgusted by her pretention and smarmy attitude, yet he felt great sympathy for her. After witnessing the way her father had crushed her soul and spirit earlier, he couldn't really blame her for acting like that in retaliation. A small part of him wished there was some way he was able to help her...

"Philip!"

A baritone voice, followed with a light rapping on the window called his thoughts away from the situation. Turning around, his face beamed in happiness seeing Dustin's smiling face appear through the glass. Since they were small children, after having met when Dustin sold cookies on the corner for extra money, the two had always considered each other their best friends. Being from such a lower working class family however, Rowena often forbade her son from "fraternizing with the poverty stricken little whelps" as put in her own words. Yet it never stopped Philip from having fun with the Desmond family, as many times Dustin or one of his siblings would climb up the lattice to his window, or the Master would sneak out and head over to their small flat in the East End.

Throwing up the window, Philip beamed at finally being to talk with someone who understood him. "Dusty! What are you doing here?"

The Cockney's face beamed with a mischievous grin, exposing his prominent front teeth. "I'm thinking of trying a new recipe and thought me best mate would be my lab rat!"

Ever since he was amateurly training in the culinary arts, Dustin had always trusted his best friend's taste on his newest projects. Whether it was something sweet or a full course meal, Philip was willing to try to it.

"Gladly!" the Master smiled as he set foot out of the window after him, beginning his descent down the flower adorned lattice. "After what my parents put me through today, the last thing I want to do is be stuck around here."

"What did they do now?" Dustin asked curiously. "Did they make you use a fork?"

"Oh har har," Philip sarcastically responded, leaping off the lattice and onto the ground with a thud. "No, they actually had the brilliant idea of attempting to set me up with another woman again."

"Really?" Dustin wryly smiled as he pushed his glasses back up his nose "Let me guess...you sent her off screaming to the hills?"

Philip playfully elbowed the fair haired Cockney in his side. "Oh, don't go around talking. I don't see any women lining up for you either. She seemed rather a bit stuck-up herself, but I honestly can't blame her after seeing her father. I mean, I knew my father was commanding at times, but he seemed a veritable dictator. And the way he crowed on about everything being so perfect for his little daughter was just nauseatingly elitist at times."

Dustin shrugged his shoulders, kicking a pebble down the alley as they walked on. "What do you expect? He probably came from such a proud family that everything is a matter of principle and background for him and his daughter. You've probably met their kind a lot more than I have. You were lucky enough to have come from a poor multicultural family that worked their way from the ground up to where they are today. Not like these other pure blueboods with their noses in the air where only money and family background are important."

"I suppose," Philip sighed as he continued to trudge down the walkway. "I often feel like I really don't belong in this type of lifestyle. Maybe I'd be more accustomed to the life you and Asher and Bea have sometimes."

"Oh, please. With how pampered you live it up, I doubt you could last one day in the East End," Dustin chuckled. "You probably eat a week's wages worth of food in one day up here."

The sound of soft gentle sobbing suddenly interrupted the two boys' conversation, stopping them in their tracks. Hearing it coming from around the kitchen service corner of the alley, the two teenagers curiously attempted to locate the source. There sitting atop stacks of empty crates, Merridie sat huddled into a corner, with her face firmly planted in her lap as she sobbed softly. With a look of pity and sorrow, Philip stared at the pitiful sight of the poor girl, now feeling great sympathy at the predicament her father must have put her through.

"Who's that?" Dustin whispered back to the Master. His face was beginning to soften as well with empathy at the sight of her.

"That's the girl I was telling you about earlier, Merridie." Philip continued to stare at her with great concern. "Her father must have hurt her really bad."

"The poor thing," the bespectacled boy moaned. He softly treaded forward to offer his help to her. "Excuse me, may we perhaps be of any help?"

At the sound of his voice, Merridie raised her face up from her lap which was now stained red from her tears. At the sight of Philip she bitterly glared towards him, but stared back at Dustin inquisitively. "Who are you?"

"Oh, how rude of me," Dustin flustered and smiled. "My name is Dustin Desmond, and I'm...sure you already know my best mate Philip from earlier."

Philip raised his arm, giving her a timid wave with an uneasy grin shining on his face. Merridie just continued her long scowl at him before burying her face back down into her arms. "Please, just leave me alone."

Turning to Philip, Dustin replied with a concerned expression as the Master reflected with the same. With a motion of his head, the lanky teenager ushered him to move forward. "Go on, talk to her."

Philip just furrowed his brow and shook his head. "I'm probably the last person she wants to speak with right now," he whispered. "Besides, what will I say to her?"

"Why not ask her to come along with us? I'm sure it'll help her to be out and about with someone to cheer her spirits up."

Nervously trotting forward, Philip mustered a grin as he bit his lip in anxiousness. "Um, Miss Merridie..." He could feel his heart racing in skittish anticipation. "Wouldyouliketocomebackwithus?"

Merridie raised her head upwards with a sniffle, wiping away the tears from her face. "What?"

Philip embarrassedly looked down to the ground, while he tried to work out the words of what he wanted to say. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he was finding it incredibly difficult to string them together. Finally he mumbled out, "Wouldyouliketo..."

Dustin interrupted with a quick elbow to his side. "I think what Philip is trying to say is if you'd like to come back with us to my house. My siblings have made some fresh tea and there are some ginger cat cookies in the oven."

Merridie looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What are ginger cat cookies?"

***

"I love ginger cat cookies!" Merridie gushed as she bit off another one of the heads of a cookie cat.

"There's plenty more on the way!" Dustin called out as he whipped about the small kitchen in preparing the next batch of confections.

The Desmond residence was a very small and cramped little place, consisting of only a small three room flat on the top floor of a ramshackled apartment building. There was only room for a small main living area that consisted of an old sofa, a table and chairs set, and a small alcove for a kitchenette area. Two woodrotten doors lead to the only other rooms in the house - their parents' room, and the largest bedroom which the three siblings shared together. Plumbing services could be found on the first floor outside with a water pump and an outhouse shared by all the other tenants. It was a meager place but it was the best that their parents could provide, even with normally working every day of the week with long hours. Money was often sparse with their father working in the dangerous position as a factory machinist, and their mother as a typist in a secretarial pool. Yet, it did bring in an adequate enough amount of money to feed the entire family. Despite its rather gloomy and dilapidated appearance, the Desmond siblings managed to find joy here. Philip likewise often sought it as a safehaven for fun away from his parents.

"So, Miss Merridie..." Asher sleazily hovered about the girl as he paced around the table. "I understand you're Philly's little fiancee, eh? I hope you don't get crushed on your wedding night!"

"Asher! Stop it!" Bea in her usual good nature interjected. "The poor things have both been through enough trouble! The last thing they need for you to do is taunt them."

Merridie coughed, sending tiny chunks of ginger kitty flying. Her face the same color as the strawberry jam "noses" on the cats, she gasped for air, hand over her mouth. When she finally caught her breath, she said, "I'm not his fiancee. And that's hardly polite conversation."

"Sorry, darrrrlin'," Asher tried to imitate her Southern drawl.

"You're one to talk, Ashley," Bea chided. "You're hardly svelte."

"This is all muscle, I'll 'ave you know!" the stout Cockney thumbed his thick chest.

"Just like your head!"

Dustin meanwhile swirled together batter for another batch while listening closely to the conversation. "Oh, I'm sure our little Philip would be the most gentle of grooms, starting out with a serenade by moonlight, then a recitation of his bride's favorite poem." He winked.

Philip couldn't help but blush thinking of a wedding night together with someone. "You flatter me Dustin," he chuckled.

"Yeah, and you'd flatten her!" Asher guffawed.

"Shut up!" Bea whacked her sibling hard on his arm, as he continued to make loud snorts and giggles. Turning back to Merridie, the freckled girl asked, "So Merridie, why exactly is your father so set on you being married now? It seems rather early to even be thinking of a topic as serious as that. Is it common in your family?"

"Well, daddy was always rather strict," she took a sip of warm tea and attempted to scrunch down into her seat. She stared down into the drink. "And he's always been rather commanding whenever he makes up his mind on something. He's a true military man, believing that a household should be run just like an infantry. He always crows on about the action he saw and how the army had made him a better leader and that others should do the same. I can't tell you how many times he's must have gone on about how much of a Civil War hero he was when he had been a teenager. I tell him fighting to separate from the rest of the country really isn't that patriotic, but that just gets him flustered and he tells me to shut up."

Philip stared back at the Southern girl, listening carefully to her story. He had seen her extremely vulnerable outside in the alley, but here in their discussion now, he pondered just how much of a forced life she must have lived. It was true that his parents had often attempted to arrange him a marriage with another woman and screamed at him occassionally, but in their moments they still showed him kindness and love in some way. He felt guilty that Merridie never apparently had that with her father.

"I know he's disappointed with me. He would have rather have had a son," the girl continued. "Or at least a mute daughter who doesn't read. I know his goal is to be rid of me...just marry me off to someone so he doesn't have to put up with me any more. But, he isn't entirely heartless. He wants me to be secure, preferably with a military boy."

The girl raised her head up to look at everyone else in the room, as they stared back at her sympathetic looks. "I'm sorry!" Merridie's voice quivered. "I shouldn't say things like that. He's a good man, really. I know that he wants me to be well off, and he's always supported momma and me!"

"You don't need to apologize, dear!" Bea interrupted with a soft smile on her face.

"Yes she does!" crowed Asher. "Fifty lashes!"

"Hush!" Dustin shoved his brother face down into the couch cushions.

"I'm just happy that momma encourages me to read while daddy isn't around," Merridie continued. "She often told me she thinks it builds character, but daddy can't stand it. He hates women being educated in literature and says that it places 'silly ideas in their heads.'"

"Sounds like to me your father is more afraid of women overpowering him and usurping his masculinity, which he boasts about to overcompensate for his neurotic ego," Bea spat out all in one long breath.

Everybody in the room sat in stunned silence as they stared at the freckled English girl.

Asher's mouth hung open in amazement. "Where in the bloody 'ell did you learn that kind of language?"

"The library," his sister replied matter-of-factly with a grin. "Believe it or not Ashley dear, there's this marvelous place in Westminster where you can go and read books for free! I found a few interesting volumes on psychology there last week."

"Then 'ow come you never discussed it with me before?"

"Why should she?" Dustin smirked. "There's nothing up there she can psychoanalyze."

"What's the library like here?" Merridie asked excitedly. "We really don't have any where I live, except for the one in Jacksonville."

"Oh, it's absolutely enormous!" Bea gushed. "I'm sure you'd love it. Everything you can possibly imagine, from fiction to reference. You could get lost in there." The girl shined an impish grin over to Philip's direction. "I'm sure Philip would be eager to help show you around."

The Master just blushed back in embarrassment, as he attempted to change the subject. "I remember having a hard time getting out of there myself. I went to find a copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses and it took me almost an hour to find the exit again."

"Shouldn't 'ave been hard for you, Philly. You should 'ave just followed your trail of cookie crumbs back," Asher sniggered as Philip just glared in reply to him.

"You read Ovid?" Merridie inquired. "I thought I was the only person around who liked his poetry and collections."

"Not at all," Philip grinned back. His interest was beginning to perk at hearing Merridie's love for books and authors. "My parents often helped me to become interested in literature, saying it would build up my abilities for later in life. I've read everything from Ovid and Chaucer to Emily Dickinson and Elizabeth Barrett Browning."

"I love Dickinson as well!" the young Belle agreed happily. "I often wish I had suitors where I could discuss topics like this. Almost every one my father has set me up with was either only interested in himself, or boasting about his own successful business. Seemed like any time I dared to bring up the subject of books or writers, they'd completely change the subject. Every single male I encounter that my father attempts to set me up with is either completely full of himself or moronic."

"'Every man?"' Philip stood up indignantly, fists at his sides. With their discussion he was hoping they would make some connection, but to him she apparently still saw him as a boorish oaf and lumped in with her other suitors. "Every one of them, huh? Including me?!"

"But I didn't--" Merridie attempted to explain.

"I don't want to hear it!" the Master interrupted while pushing himself out of his chair. "Since you've came here, you haven't stopped judging me like all the others! I had hoped now that you could look beyond outward appearances instead of jumping to quick conclusions, but apparently not. I tried being nice and you...and you don't even care!"

"Philip!" she tried to reason again, but the pudgy lad was too far into his rant to listen.

"I know when I'm not wanted!" Philip continued to boil without listening. "I'm going home!" With a loud slam, he marched out the door and down the stairwell back to his house.

Merridie stared at the closed door with a feeling of remorse and confusion. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I figured he'd know..."

"Ahh, it's best to just let 'im go, missy," Asher reassured her. "He's often been the emotional one. Takes everything much too seriously sometimes."

"I can't blame him though," Dustin added with a melancholy tone. "Every since he was a child, the children had always picked on him."

"What for?" Merridie inquired.

"Fer bein' a piglet!" Asher snorted.

"Shut up!" his brother shouted back at him. "Because of who he is. So many other families where he lives all come from respected old English heritages with wealth from past generations. Philip's family are what many call the "nouveau-riche" and started out poorly. Not to mention his ethnical and family background which is unfavored by the stuck-up snobs."

"Oh," Merridie nodded solemnly staring at the ground. She had been so accustomed to having grown up in rural Florida, far away from hierarchy society, that she musn't have quite understood what it was like out here in the city. "Still, that doesn't give him reason to act so rude all the time or be snippy about things."

"I think he's just that way with a lot of people," Bea responded. "He's always very cautious of strangers and new people in the upper class. I'd be leery too after the way they've teased him relentessly like the others have." The Cockney girl's stare slowly shifted upwards to her brother. "Including yours truly here."

"Hey! I do it just in fun!" Asher argued. "I don't actually hurt little Philly, an' you know it!"

"Oh, sure. Because referring to him as a fat elf are always words of endearment!"

"I hope you're not too quick to judge him, Merridie," Dustin interrupted his siblings' squabbling. "He may seem rather difficult to get along with on the outside, but once you get to know him, he's a very giving person. His trust in others has been dashed so many times that he mostly only shows that side to close friends. But we all know that once you make amends with him, he's one of the most noble people around. I remember last year our father was injured at his old job and was unemployed for an entire month. We had mother's income to live off of, but it was nowhere near enough for all us to get by. Philip by himself, gave us his entire allowance from his parents every week until father could find another job. You really don't get too many charitable friends like that who are willing to help out one another."

Merridie stared at the floor while pondering Dustin's words. Perhaps she had been too hard on Philip and was too quick to dismiss him with first impressions. His friendly chatting on their walk here, and his knowledge and interest in literature, soon began to spark an interest in her and show just how much of a wonderful person he could truly be. He was sweet. A bit rude in the table manners department and extremely sensitive, maybe, but sweet. Even though she'd acted like a brat, he still tried to cheer her up and introduced her to his friends. On top of that, he was certainly intelligent. Once you got him talking, he could certainly hold a conversation. And in his own chubby way, she thought with a blush, he was handsome. Maybe if he wore clothes that actually fit, he could be passed off as a gentleman in the high gentry.

The chiming of the wall clock suddenly interrupted Merridie's thoughts.

"Oh my, it's six o'clock already?" Dustin remarked while staring at the timepiece. "Perhaps I should help you head back to Philip's house before it gets dark. It's quite a walk, and a foreigner shouldn't stroll the streets of London alone at night."

***

Philip shoved his face deep into his pillow as he continued his sulking. Over and over in his mind he replayed his reaction at the flat, feeling more foolish and angry each time he imagined it. Perhaps he had mistaken what Merridie meant and taken it the wrong way. What if she honestly was taking a liking to him and saw him as a different person? Then again, his face twisted into a pout thinking of being treated as completely inferior to her ego. He had plenty of that treatment from his old schoolmates, mocking him for who he was and how "lowly" his family supposedly was compared to theirs.

A loud knock quickly interrupted Philip from his thinking as he glanced to face his bedroom door. The last thing in the world he wanted right now was his parents interfering into his affairs once more. "Who is it?"

The knob slowly began to turn as Merridie peeked her head inside. "May I come in?" Her voice sounded as if it was barely above a whisper.

"Why would you want to see me?" Philip dejectedly asked. He just continued to pout on his bed, hugging a pillow tightly against his chest. "I thought you figured I was too stupid to hold a conversation with you."

"Philip, please! You know I didn't mean that at all!" the young girl pleaded. Shifting foward, she shut the door behind her while working the nerve to step closer to him. "I never meant that I found you that way. It's just ever since my father began his search to marry me off to someone, I've had to put up with nothing but egotistical morons who can't see beyond themselves. I guess I sort of built an immunity to them over time by sometimes acting as hard headed and stuck up as they have. But when I was talking to you earlier, I found it nice to finally have someone to talk with about literature and the arts. For the first time I felt I found someone my own age that I connected with and became good friends."

Philip didn't move a muscle and continued his glare down at the floor. He was intently listening to her words, but pretended to appear as if he was just ignoring her. He silently admitted to himself that he had felt the same way and was happy to have discovered someone he could chat with on such matters as well. Still, he let his foolish pride overtake him and remained in his pouting mood.

Merridie started to grow nervous at the icy silence between them and hoped to break him into a conversion. She glanced about his opulent room, taking notice of a few interesting items upon his dresser. She examined what appeared to be an old talisman of an ancient idol, completely covered with dirt and dried mud. Her curiosity growing, she asked to him, "What's this?"

Philip momentarily raised his head upwards to look at the object, before quickly shoving it back down towards the floor. "It's a present my grandfather gave to me. He found it while on one of his expeditions to the South Seas."

"Your grandfather traveled to the South Seas?" the girl asked interested.

His spirits beginning to lift, the Master raised his head to look back at her. "Yeah, he often traveled to different parts of the world searching for ancient civilizations and cultures. It was his job as a scientist, although mother always hated him for it. She always accused him of wasting his money on those trips and blaming him for the family being so poor when she was growing up," he chuckled. A small smile started to spread across his face. "When he died, he left me some of his journals on what he uncovered from his trips to South America and Africa. He knew that I always loved reading them."

Merridie smiled back at Philip, delighted in seeing him in a good humor again. The way he looked as he wistfully remembered the times of reading the journals made the girl beam as well. Placing the talisman down, her gaze diverted to a thin well-worn leather bound book. What appeared to be some form of Hebrew writing mixed with Hungarian words was written on parchment, along with the name Haskel Berkovich.

"What's this?" Merridie asked curiously, taking the book into her hands.

With amazing agility for such a hefty boy, Philip leapt off his bed and dashed over to yank the book out of her hands. "Don't touch that!" he shouted, hugging the tome closely.

"I'm sorry!" she cried in a startled tone. She inched away from him, afraid that she had damaged the book. "I didn't know it was important. I'm sorry."

Philip's face turned red in embarrassment, realizing how much of a childish fool he must have acted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It's just...this book means a lot to me. My father trusted this to me when I was a child. It's the last remaining thing I have left of our family history, other than the artifacts and journals from my grandfather."

"I'm so sorry," Merridie placed a hand on Philip's shoulder, hoping it would make him feel better. "I shouldn't have touched it in the first place." Noticing the Master's continued gaze at the book, she glanced at it in silence as well. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but who was Haskel Berkovich?"

"Haskel is my father," Philip quietly replied.

Merridie's brow furrowed in confusion. "But...I thought Harland was your father?"

"He is," Philip answered with a soft whisper. "They're both the same. He changed his name to Harland Elwood legally at my mother's insistence. My father actually came from a poor Hungarian Jewish background, mostly working as merchants there in their village. He had a huge family back there in Hungary. But he always told me how he was never content with seeing how little his parents had, so he made it his mission to strike it rich for them one day. So he scrounged up enough money and immigrated up here to London. I remember him telling me that it took him weeks to find a job, but he managed to finally be employed as an errand boy for the vice-president of a large stock investment firm. He and father quickly became close friends with another, and helped to provide any extra money that my father needed to get by on. About a year later he developed pnuemonia though and passed away. He had no close to next of kin, so half of what he had was sent to charity, while the other half of his investments in stocks and bonds were left to my father. Some of it he invested for personal use, while the other half he invested back in the market with a tip he received from a friend at the firm. And sure enough, next week the stock soared to incredible prices and father was able to secure and start his own investing firm himself. After a few months with it starting to establish itself, the firm became incredibly popular for common investors hoping to strike it rich as well, or leasing loans. Everything was perfect now for my father, and he was ready to send for his family to come up here and live with him."

"So, what happened?" Merridie asked as her interest grew.

"My mother," Philip quietly replied. "My father and mother both fell in love when one day she came in to ask for a loan to pay for some old stocks her mother had left her. It's hard to believe now, but father said she was so charming and sweet then. Just hopelessly romantic in everything that they did together, and soon he proposed to her. It was a union that was sort of frowned upon though, as my mother had always been raised a Lutheran, even though she herself wasn't that religious. My grandfather blessed the union, but my father's parents forbid it. They were such strict Orthodox followers they said they would disown him from the family and never speak to him again if he proceeded to wed. The two of them though were so head-over-heels in love they went married any way, and my father has never spoken to his parents since. But he said he didn't care as long as he had the sweetness of my mother. But then, she too changed soon after a while. It's funny what money can do to a person. Father has always been completely content with only having enough for us to get by, but once my mother got the taste of high society she grew just as snobbish and elitist as the rest of them. She insisted her and father become wealthier, saying his name was even getting in the way. Even today many of the older wealthy English households want nothing to do with Jewish families in either knowing them or working with them. So he went and changed his name to something that sounded more of an old English background. Although it still hasn't done much. So many aristocrats know the truth and shun us. Even when I went to private school before I began having private instructors, my classmates teased me constantly for it. I can tell the whole family affair still deeply hurts father. Every year he writes a letter to my grandparents pleading them to see me, but they always reject it." Philip's eyes began to water as he could feel tears start to well up. "I feel like maybe I'm the spawn of some unholy union that should never have existed."

Merridie stared at him as he cried, her heart hurting for him. She had no idea that he himself had always felt like the outcast that she had been in her family. Impulsively, she quickly grabbed him by the side and gave him a hug. "No, you're not, Philip! You're a wonderful boy and don't let anybody tell you any different. Your heritage isn't something that should make you feel ashamed, but one that is unique. You should be proud of it."

Philip could feel his oncoming tears start to slightly dry up. He couldn't quite place why exactly, but something about her touch had made him feel special. It was true that he had felt loved by his parents at times, but this feeling she had given him was something entirely new. For the first time he felt like he wasn't loved simply because he was somebody's son, but somebody actually who grew to love him for being himself. A small smile began to break out across his pudgy face as he glanced up to look at Merridie. Having now seen her in a new light, she appeared different to him. She was no longer some pretentious Southern belle who viewed herself better, but a real woman with both loves and emotions who could genuinely care about others.

Merridie smiled back at him, happy to see that the Master's spirits were now lifting gradually. A sense of worry however soon washed over her as she grew afraid of maybe overstepping his comfort boundaries. Easing her arm away from his side, she gently opened the book along with his hand as they began to flip through the pages. In a fancy style of handwriting, were the words "To my dear Toviel. May this book of memories bring you great joy."

"Who's Toviel?" the girl questioned.

Philip grinned at seeing the name written amongst the old family photographs. "Toviel is my Hebrew name my father gave me when I was born. Mother argued with him that they should raise me the way society here sees fit, but father insisted that I shouldn't lose my Jewish heritage and raised me up in his religion. And after seeing mother's old medieval Christianity books with its bloody depictions of hell and teachings of eternal damnation, I must say I'm glad he did," Philip elicited a small giggle. His face suddenly seemed to go blank for a moment before he looked at Merridie wistfully. "I still remember a conversation I had with him long ago where he came to me and we discussed the situation of his family for a long while. One thing I'll never forget is that he told me I should follow my heart and love who I want, and that it would never shame my heritage or this family."

Merridie shined a smile back at him, showing a bright glimmer in her green eyes. Very slowly she inched her hand closer to his, touching it ever so slightly, before Philip smiled back and took grasp of it. A type of energy surged between them when their hands clasped, as if there was a bond.

"I know a lot of your home life is less than pleasant with your father and how much of a dictator he can be," Philip spoke to her. "But I hope you always feel lucky that you have something that I don't...a large close family who always loves one another for who they are."

Merridie squeezed his hand tight as she solemnly stared at the ground. The scents of the magnolias and orange blossoms that would be in bloom right now awakened her senses while thinking of family and home. "I miss it," she whispered. "I miss it so much. I wish we could go back."

Philip raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean? You're not able to go home?"

"Not at least for a while," she stated softly. "We haven't been home in over two months now. We've just been living in a hotel here in the city, while daddy goes through business deals and negotations. He said we probably won't be able to go home until at least another month and a half. Every year we go through the same thing! We spend almost four months away from our plantation and I feel like it kills me inside."

She gazed at Philip while feeling herself almost on the point of hysterics just thinking of being here. "I don't know how you can stand it, Philip. Just being in this city makes me feel so claustrophobic and like it's choking me. The black smoke from the factories, and it's cold and rainy all the time! I mean, it's rainy all the time in Florida during the summer but at least it's warm! And it's all gray with block buildings. No trees, no grass, nothing green or freshly scented. There's no birds, and all the stray cats look sick! I don't know how much longer I can take it being here!"

"It'll be okay!" Without thinking of his actions, Philip wrapped his arms tight around her as she had earlier for him. The sight of ever seeing her on the verge of sorrow now made his heart melt. "I know it seems difficult now, but you'll get through it. Seeing how much you put up with your father alone shows how brave you can be. If you can live with him, then you can muddle through your time here."

Merridie could feel herself almost wanting to sob again, but forcibly drew back the tears. She mentally convinced herself she was becoming too emotional and weak willed, but at the same time had to accept the fact of how she felt. "I just feel so alone out here. Any friends I have are all back in America, and father doesn't want me to keep in touch with anyone until we return. I feel like nobody cares, nobody listens to me."

Philip sympathetically gazed into her eyes, knowing himself exactly how she felt at times. The more he looked at her, the stronger he could feel the bond between them grow and fasten. "I care and I listen. I'll always listen to you, Merridie. I think you're a wonderful girl and deserve the best." Feeling a lump forming in his throat, he also managed to speak, "And I'd be honored if you considered me a friend while you're here, and all the time when you're not."

The girl gave a wide grin back at him, beaming ear to ear. Any trace of misery she felt washed away with Philip's words. "I'd like that. And I'd be honored if you'd consider me a friend always too."

The Master's chubby face lit up with exhuberance, as he couldn't betray his joy. Turning his face from her in a shy manner, he suggested, "And maybe if you're not doing anything tomorrow, I could stop by your hotel and I could take you around the city. And show you that it's not all black skies and sick cats," he chuckled.

Merridie let out a giggle back as she firmly squeezed his hand tight. "I would love that more than anything."

Wrapping her arms back around him, the two of them pulled each other into a tight mutual hug. Together, they felt that it was wonderful having someone across the pond care so much for them.

***

Present day...

Philip and Merridie cuddled close together as they laid comfortably upon the sofa in the sitting room. Years had passed since that lovely day when they first met, but little else had changed. Every minute between their duties, they would always share this private time together...

"Okay, off your keisters, you two!" Prudence ordered, throwing a broom and duster in their directions. "Quit yer boot knockin' and get back to work."

Well, a few things had changed...


End file.
